Striped Shirt Hero
by Baka no Healthy
Summary: An old album, some pictures, a grumpy ex-empire and some of his ex-colonies. Ah, and a hero wearing striped shirt too. Drabble with humor and bromance, full of memories and pretty relaxing. Written by me, BakanoHealthy, and translated into English by dA's scarlettwinchester. Please R&R!


**Author:** Baka no Healthy/HealthyKim

**Translator:** dA's _scarlettwinchester  
_**Genre:** General, Humor, Slice of Life, Bromance  
**Rating:** K-.  
**Characters:** England, America and England's other ex-colonies, France.  
**Disclaimer:** Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz

**STRIPED SHIRT HERO**

1. Old

There's a silly old photo album England has found in his dungeon.

He has sworn for a millennium that embarrassingly shameful album will be gone by his second encounter. But he kept on buying its time. Again and again. And he totally forgot to turn it to ashes, not on purpose anyway.

Despite the hatred, he couldn't help but open the album for a scan.

He has sworn, promised, has made sure that it would never leave the dungeon. So, he may not burn it, but it would eventually decompose and come back to Mother Nature.

But time passed by, it's still there, cockily mocking him, and yet he opened it. Only to storm out of the dungeon, face bright red, scream at anyone on his way with no specific reason. If it's France he would use his hand. If it's America he would use his foot. The idiot is surprisingly strong.

And if anyone dared to ask what's the old-looking-hard-covered-book-that-looks-like-a-ph oto-album in his dungeon, he would throw a Tongue stiffened curse on them with his so called "Dark magic".

No mercy. 

2. Young

He still remembered vividly the day America tried that checkerboard long-sleeved shirt.

It's not a joke-once it's when the meeting with the higher ranks just happened to start, first impression is more than necessary. He has done with his shopping (even shamelessly ask for France's advices), now only the cohort of adopted siblings agitated in the dressing room.

Hong Kong, being an evil little bastard he was, however still secretly excited about his new tailored suit.

Australia, there's no way on Earth he would let that lad dressed in an underwear with only a wool scarf lazily threw over it like how he wanted, and stupidly running all over the place. Nothing is suitable for him at all.

New Zealand is the opposite of his brother, everything suits him. He's a nice docile kid, unlike his older brother.

India … uhm he's big enough to take care of himself. He has been with England for a millennium anyway.

America, he found the lad a checkerboard long-sleeved shirt.

Although he's not too stupid to wear an art piece and running around like the-sibling-who-we-all-know-is-that-guy, but he still overestimate his taste of art. America is more similar to him more than anyone else. He relishes the salty sea breezes, he likes sipping tea, photographing. He has a beautiful European character, which stand out and has the features of a true little gentleman. That is why England knew this checkerboard shirt with a loose bow tie would suit the lad.

And there was no doubt that America looked like an angel with a bow tie.

After the meeting, with a school of little kids running around, the council decided to take a ton of photo. Every time he looked at that 2 colors towel collection in the album, he sighed and unconsciously touched his face gently, were I spoiled him too much? 

3. Tiny

He swore to the Lord that he knew all the hard work he had been working on since forever. But simply he could not stop the devastating incident.

England does not know what he did wrong. His territories supposed to be meek, innocent, dreamy, determine and kind, like a genuine gentleman. But everything just deflected. Deflected with a miles protractor.

India has been completely crazy the past few days: he has consecutively fired 5 cannons into him, then threw him out of the borderline. Hong Kong instinctively followed his 'master' by tying the fireworks to his doorknob. Australia remained the same. New Zealand just follows his big brother as always.

He felt a bit mad, really. Maybe he had a fight with him- the memories after all the fired works still remain blurry. But then he got home, shoo the kids to sleep, screaming and doing something then trapped by Hong Kong.

Maybe the 'place where the sun doesn't land' was not a good idea at all. He felt as if his house was an international kindergarten, and he's a terrible (not to mention pathetic) step brother. He couldn't even teach a kid that turning his bedroom into a body-tight-swimwear-showroom is no good. To sum up, he thinks he's useless.

Just when he slashed the pillow in 2, America popped his head in. Then screamed.

_No I wasn't fighting! _He justified, _I was just killing monsters. Die pillow monster, _or something similar he can think of because of the lad who was looking at his cutlass with tear-filled eyes full of fear.

America is a good kid. Better than India, Hong Kong, even than New Zealand because he doesn't blandish anyone. The lad loves listening to his stories, and he proudly stated that the territories he had been raising would grow up being a perfect gentleman.

But he realized he never taught the kid about goods or evils. Not that he never actually mention it, but still it wasn't clear enough. He thought that it would make the kid confused, and things would get complicated.

So the pillow monster is the second villain (besides France) that America had heard. The lad bravely dragged the worn out British man (because of the tension not the pillow) to the side and knocked out the so called 'monster'.

England didn't think he could understand the great joy of being protected by his adopted little brother, who was trying to smash the pillow, making the stuffed feather splashed all over the place. He only knew that the feeling is something magical he would never be able to relish again. 

4. Middle-aged.

Don't know how, but he took that photo out, brought it as a charm.

Not that it's actually magical, He knows a hell of spells and curses which are guaranteed more effective than the so called 'charm'; not to mention bringing this by his side would raise his guard, because if anyone found out its existence, he's screwed. To be honest the photo does not bring any dramatic positive changes to his dead-end life.

Not at all dead-end. The latest cases are intense. He knew it because he was. Guys like Germany, well, no comments, but even Italy and Greece showed a big deep frown then, that's pretty worrying. Now he has found it quite disturbing to go to the meeting. Get there, have a small talk to nowhere, argue, then go home.

Sometimes he took out that photo from his pocket, sighed and murmured, is this picture cursed? Since he took it with him, nothing is in its place. But he can't leave it at home. Just can't. Actually it is because he would eventually forget about it.

At these intensive meetings, he would still take glimpses of some smiles. Canada's enduring smile, or Thailand's peaceful smile. And America… screw him, he always smiles. France is too.

He couldn't bring himself to smile. Whenever he sees them smile, he would remember the photo in his pocket, mentally reminding himself to bring it back to its place after the meeting, then forget the fact it's there. 

5. Teen

He never favors his territories to be in his library. Reading books, yes that's nice, but sabotaging the library is not. His 2-century-old bookshelf is not something that can be priced.

But say whatever he wants, kids have the power to persuade the grownups. More than 10 times New Zealand has pleaded him to be in the library, and 10 times he has given it in. He didn't even care that the lad had opened the window to let Australia in; he still allow him to be in that precious treasure of his, only to ached his back cleaning the consequences afterwards.

He smiled, maybe he should use symbols instead of the Latin alphabet. Hong Kong never touched China's paper works. Maybe it's because the lad doesn't like reading.

But in the end it does not matter where or when, he would still remember he chose the Latin alphabet for the longest time.

And painfully bent over (that sounds just wrong) to clean up the mess.

Miraculously, America has never once pleaded him letting him in his library, unlike the other siblings. He would always wear that inquisitive smile of his when he sees England reading there, but even in his one-week-long-vacation back in Britain, he would never heard the kid asked about being in the library. Maybe he just enjoys the sight of people reading there, that's all. Maybe he's disturbed by the overly private atmosphere of the place.

The moment that he remembers the most about this place is when America first stepped into here. Not for reading, but to asked whether he's done with his cleaning or not. He gave him a crooked smile, trying to ignore the throbbing back ached caused by Australia, and gently told the lad he's fine, and almost finished.

America didn't say a word, helped him cleaning it up.

Little did he know, America reads. Back there he has a library too. All of the books could be borrowed, mostly by the workers. So he had to clean up quite often.

But unlike England, he never has back pain. 

6. 25 years and 10 months old.

He has never in his life seen any of his territories cry since he reached his 25.

25 years old means approximately 3 centuries if anyone has the time to calculate. But actually a country's age is considered by its development, its greatness, strength, and thousands of other causes, so only the country know their own age. Since winter solstice, he has known that he would be a year older, that's all.

Sometimes, in his rough 25, he sighed, looking at his adopted siblings-whom have become strong good looking young man. Australia and America could be considered extraordinary, since he has heard rumors about Australia himself finished a roof of the Opera Sydney theatre. From his lovely little countries he adopted, now have fully grown, independent, and great nonetheless (kind of unexpected to be frank).

But he did know from the bottom of his heart he would have to let them go some days. Like some damn bastard said, the birds have to leave its nest.

Actually this very parentally pain is from his experiences with India. The lad was 12 when he first took him home and 16 when the Super Sayan fire work happens. Kids grow so fast- with such inhumanly speed, and when they're old enough, they would brush off their parents and start their own life.

He has seen it all, so he has insomnia.

However, Earth spins, and he knows that. Northern America is developing each single day, and America continually calls home and bragging them out. He felt proud, indeed, but anxiety dimmed the pride of the old man.

_The centre factory has finished, he said so when he called. How cool's that?_

_Yes, cool indeed. Be careful with the management. Are you wearing a striped shirt?_

_Wow you're good. Know it without taking a single glance!_

_Idiot, I know you so well. Get back to work, and don't be late._

_Easy easy, I haven't done setting up the worker's place. Anyone is worth a good place, but half an hour later at the office, well no one seems to be off about that._

He smiled, knew that the lad didn't see it. Since he turned fully to his 25, his territories don't sry anymore.

And America never cries, he tried and failed to remember. 

On the other side of the phone, a youth wearing a striped shirt sitting on his armchair, a hand holding his paperwork, the other one holding a pen, the phone was sandwiched between his broad shoulder and ear, waiting for the empire to stop laughing and get back to chat. 

7. And a hero in a striped shirt.

He knows, heck he was sure he would never fall asleep at a meeting. But dear god, the last minutes people still believe in the Earth looks like a strawberry top cake, and yet it just seems to turn to a sphere that's all.

To sum up he was napping. Yep he was.

He involuntarily fell asleep, and dreamt a shameful dream about a lad in a striped shirt collecting the books. But, hey he won't disclose this dream to anyone, no. He would keep it in his pocket and shoved it in the album.

When he woke up, America was still speaking nonstop about some rubbish on the podium. Something about facilities. About education. No one could ever know why a not-fully-grown-20-year-old-man could give a speech about such things.

_Done with sleeping?_ France asked provocatively nest to him. He glared at the bastard. _Yes, I'm done. You want me to take the guard?_

_Oh, oh, hear the lad talks_.

America continues to talk, without a single pause.

_There are approximately five thousand grand factory are working in the South, and two third of the factories constantly asking about more manpower. But why is the South's unemployment rate is still so high?_

_We always say that books are for everyone. But we never do what we said. Textbooks are for the rich. Real books are for the educated. That's a great injustice, but our suggestion is still not enough to erase its unrighteous._

_How bright, _France smirked.

He sighed, moved his gaze from the words cascading from the world No.1 country. _Yes, bright indeed. Chivalrous. Or any words you want._

And subconsciously took out that photo, ignore the fact France was sitting right next to him.

He in the photo- definitely resembles nothing to the present. He looks happy, pure happiness.

And America, he has always been a handsome lad.

_I suggest that…_

He glanced back to America, who was babbling in some weird language only he understands. Australia and New Zealand listened carefully; Hong Kong was too, even though he still wore his trade mark poker face.

He realized the corner of his mouth moved upwards to an expression he never thought he would wear again. And he felt relief. Strange.

He has always thought that he would never be able to smile, to feel proud again.

America hasn't done yet. The lad still smiled, bragging something, he didn't care. And it felt like a thousand years since he last saw the lad in a striped shirt.

_…Any question?..._

But, bespectacled or not, Clark Kent is still the hero, right?


End file.
